“Thank you. Pray proceed.”
“The commissionnaire, seeing by my pale face that something was to be feared, had followed me upstairs. Now we both rushed along the corridor and down the steep steps which led to Charles Street. The door at the bottom was closed, but unlocked. We flung it open and rushed out. I can distinctly remember that as we did so there came three chimes from a neighboring clock. It was quarter to ten.”
“That is of enormous importance,” said Holmes, making a note upon his shirt-cuff.
“The night was very dark, and a thin, warm rain was falling. There was no one in Charles Street, but a great traffic was going on, as usual, in Whitehall, at the extremity. We rushed along the pavement, bareheaded as we were, and at the far corner we found a policeman standing.
“ ‘A robbery has been committed,’ I gasped. ‘A document of immense value has been stolen from the Foreign Office. Has anyone passed this way?’
“ ‘I have been standing here for a quarter of an hour, sir,’ said he; ‘only one person has passed during that time—a woman, tall and elderly, with a Paisley shawl.’
“ ‘Ah, that is only my wife,’ cried the commissionnaire; ‘has no one else passed?’
“ ‘No one.’
“ ‘Then it must be the other way that the thief took,’ cried the fellow, tugging at my sleeve.
“ ‘But I was not satisfied, and the attempts which he made to draw me away increased my suspicions.